"So, let's summarize," I said, standing with my arms crossed, feeling like a CEO at a meeting with a key investor. "Five injectors of enhanced combat stimulant, which I've dubbed 'Ultimate Predator Serum'." Not me, the System, I mentally corrected myself, but Blade didn't need to know that. "And two muscle stimulants. Plus, I've reserved a Potion of Intellect for you in exchange for a future barter. Is that all correct?"
"Yeah," Blade nodded, leaning against his Charger. "If you weren't so stingy, you'd sell more stimulants."
"I don't have much myself yet, it's not mass-produced," I said, spreading my hands. "And since you can only offer money for now, this is my maximum."
Seven stimulants. At ten thousand dollars each. Seventy thousand. Blade agreed without even blinking. Though, behind his sunglasses, you couldn't tell, maybe he did blink...
"I'll bring you an interesting thing this week. It's definitely worth trading for your miracle potion," he promised. "You better prepare more supplies, so I don't have to waste small change on them."
I choked on the air at those words.
"Small change?! That's seventy thousand dollars! Is Vampire hunting really that profitable?"
"Heh," he chuckled and gently patted the hilt of his katana. "If you only knew how much it and its upkeep cost... But yeah, some comes from ghouls, some was inherited from my laid-to-rest old man, and some I earn on emergency missions 'from above'." Here, Blade raised a finger significantly, implying that crawling into these "above" was not a place for me.
"Whoa, okay," I sighed. "Honestly, I inflated the price of the stimulants to discourage people from buying them with money. I planned to focus on smelting metals... But who knew it would work the other way around in your case."
"Kid, I just understand that you can shut down this operation any moment," his tone became more serious. "Your potions are a tactical advantage that can't be measured with money. As long as the opportunity exists, I'll take it."
"How will you pay? In cash? I doubt you carry around a suitcase of money."
"Nah, that's inconvenient," he scoffed. "It's the digital age. Why carry kilograms of paper when there are secure accounts and other perks of civilization?"
"So you won't be tracked down and caught by the tail..."
"If you have connections 'from above'," Blade grinned, pointing to the sky again, "you become practically a ghost in the system. Untouchable. So here, take this."
He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a plastic card. Matte black, no name, no number, just a golden chip and a tiny, barely noticeable engraving of a crown.
"It's linked to an account protected by the British Crown. Expenditures of up to a million bucks a month won't attract extra attention. Even if you spend more, you're safe, those 'above' will take care of it. I'll re-link it to you through online banking now and send you the details. Seventy grand will be in the account today."
"Convenient..." I had to admit, taking the card. It was heavier than regular plastic. I put it in my pocket, feeling my financial reality had just made a quantum leap, as the Instagram influencers from my past world would call it. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to be buying gold or platinum, would you?"
The ore needed to be sold, because expenses would only increase, and going to pawnshops was becoming increasingly risky.
"Do I look like I have a long nose and a yarmulke?" he chuckled. "Nah, kid, I don't do that kind of thing. But now I think I understand why you're not very interested in money. Anyway, I have a trusted buyer. Takes only 20% below market price, works with any volume, pays in any form. Doesn't ask extra questions."
"Great! I'm waiting for his contact, Frankie's contact, and the bank account details."
"Word," Blade took out his smartphone, and a moment later two messages arrived on my phone. "I'll send the account details later."
"Is that... normal? Sending such important information via SMS?"
"People 'from above'," Blade smiled meaningfully.
"Damn, now I'm worried about attracting the attention of these powerful people..." I muttered.
"Don't sweat it," he patted me on the shoulder. "I work with dozens of guys like you. But there's only one like me. I'm the sword. And you're the blacksmith. They're interested in the sword, not the blacksmith who sharpens it. As long as you work in your garage and don't flaunt it, everything will be fine."
That's the problem, sooner or later I'll have to come out of the shadows. But okay, we'll deal with it as we go. Blade got into his Charger, the engine roared, and the car sped away, leaving me in the silence of a Sunday afternoon.
I looked at my OP balance. At the card in my pocket. At the new contacts in my phone. And then mentally clicked on the icon in the System interface. And no, I'm not a gambler!
"Forge the Universe! 450 OP."
I stared at the result.
[Received Information Package (Uncommon) - Temporal Principle of Antimatter Manipulation - TPAM (Final Fantasy XIII-3). Unlock Cost: 900 OP]
Description: You can master the forbidden technology of the Academy of Gran Pulse, which combines antimatter and Chaos, to control time. Without equipment, you can locally (in a small area of space) stop time for 3 seconds, but you will be severely exhausted and your movements will be slowed down, and repeated use will completely exhaust your body. With the right tools and materials, you can create devices that slow down, speed up, or stop time. Fal'Cie Pandemonium has banned this power, fearing its potential to destroy reality, but perhaps you can unlock its secrets.
What? No, not like that. WHAT THE FUCK?! Is that even legal?! Stimulants are one thing, violating the fundamental laws of the universe is another! Even three measly seconds of stopping time is too much... TOO MUCH! What kind of freaking Dio is that on the lowest settings? Although, judging by the description, on very, very low settings, with a bunch of crutches and side effects. But even so... And that's just an "Uncommon" item. This is the first time I've gotten something higher than "Common" rarity! So, I'm not cursed after all!
The euphoria from realizing that I had acquired a god-tier power quickly gave way to cold pragmatism. What am I going to do with this? No, it's clear that I'll unlock it eventually. But do I need it here and now? I have 620 OP left, and I need to accumulate another 280 to unlock it. At the same time, I can do another spin for 500 and get something more practical. A bird in the hand in the form of temporary manipulations or a crane in the sky?
I spent ten minutes pondering. The temptation was great. But the true potential of TPAM was revealed precisely in technologies. And that required resources, laboratories, and knowledge that I simply didn't have. Three seconds of stopped time could save my life, but the same Peter's "Proteus" fabric, stimulants, and Frank's gun would provide me with greater security on a more permanent basis. And for monsters like the Hulk, those three seconds mean nothing. No. This is an endgame skill. And I'm not even in the midgame yet.
"Forge the Universe! 500 OP."
[Attention! Due to the user reaching the price threshold of 500 OP, the chance of getting rarer items has increased! Descriptions of items created by the user have been improved. Descriptions of dropped system items have been improved.]
Now that's interesting! The System rewards large bets. That couldn't help but please me. I wonder if there will be an upgrade after 1000 OP too? We'll live and learn. What matters now is what I got.
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